<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/this-is-your-life/”>This Is Your Life</a>
Knowing too much about the future? There are some things that we accept in life as being unavoidable, the classics death and taxes come to mind. And obviously with each passing day our personal history has already been written so those pages would just be a reminder of what has been. Dickens explored that theme with his three ghostly visions of Past, Present, and Future, allowing Scrooge to change his future.
His pages hadn’t been written in stone, on paper, or even the words of legend passed from adult to child in parable form. That apparition of the Future only gave him a glimpse of what possibly could be if he continued on his path. So having a book, where my life is pre-determined, I’m not sure that I like that idea.
How might it change my days knowing how the story ends, that last tick of the clock before it strikes the midnight hour on my life?
The past is the past, or so some have told me. We study it in classes so as to understand how society has ebbed and flowed into becoming the people we are presently. Hoping that we correct our mistakes moving forward and learn how to better communicate with others different ideas without the need for violence or anger. The past can’t be undone, but the future should be as flexible as possible.
I need to live with the idea that hope exists in the universe. And having a story, complete with the details of how it all ends, means that at some point I have to give up on hope. That all that is to come, just like all that will have been, has someone’s guiding hand telling my tale for me.
Those Choose-Your-Own-Adventure books of my childhood has limits, and you learned them as you read the story for the third or fourth time. But you still had the ability to make the same mistakes or new ones, within a certain universe. That’s the limit I want to place on the future.
Is there a part of me that would consider knowing when the cancer might win, maybe. But that also means I have to accept that someone always knew my time with my daughter was going to be limited, that they could have warned me about the pain of that loss just by showing me a page already containing dried ink.
Rewatching a movie, knowing how everything is going to unfold, that is the limit I wish to place on experiencing some detail of another’s story. There;s something satisfying about anticipating some scene that I enjoy while knowing that there might also be a scene worth fast-forwarding over. The same with a music album, I know of few records that don’t ave a track or two I skip at times. [Dark Side of the Moon and Scenes From a Memory are two albums I can’t do that to!]
The only thing in the universe that I can accept as having a definite starting point and moving in a straight line is a beam of light. That only stops when it hits a body floating in the sky. That warmth on our bodies ending it’s journey. For me, I’m going to continue to chose free will.